Backstory - Tying up in St Tropez

In this glamourous port on the Cote d’Azur, I thought I had it easy. Instead of juggling the three jobs alone of camera operator, director and presenter, I had a budget to hire a French camerawoman for a day. But in France a work day means eight hours minus an hour for lunch, which left me with seven frazzled fast-paced hours and some very zippy boat journeys across the Bay of St Tropez.

The story was slated to be about disgruntled fishermen moving out of St Tropez harbour to make room for speedboats, motorcruisers and yachts. But I never found that story. The fishermen seemed delighted to have been paid thousands of euros for their berths. The rich boat owners cared little about the price, as long as they could find a mooring. The story changed as the day progressed. I needed new interviews, new shots, new pieces-to-camera. If it was not for my flexible, if time-conscious, camerawoman, and a brilliantly supportive RIB driver, I would have been bereft of a feature. All thanks to them.